What You Almost Left Behind
by The Little Mermaid
Summary: Siobhan wakes up in the middle of The Mirkwood Forest, but just what brought her there and what is her purpose? Is she there to save Middle Earth or is she there to save herself? (formerly called A Second Chance)
1. Awakenings

            This might be a Mary Sue (I'm not sure what, exactly, the qualifications are) but rest assured, is not your typical 'girl goes to Middle Earth, girl falls in love with (insert handsome LoTR character).' Romance develops later on in the story, much later.

            I finally did it. Never thought it would happen. But here it is, my first chapter of the first fanfic story that I actually intend to complete. Just a note to any potential reviewers, I will be actively editing this story as mistakes and inconsistencies are pointed out to me. So, I encourage you to be critical. While I might not always follow suggestions, I will certainly read and consider all of them. Thanks to anyone who takes the time to tell me what you thought of my story.

            Sorry it's so short, but there is more to come!

Chapter 1: Awakening

            A young woman moaned softly in the darkness of the night. 'Ugh,' she thought to herself as she rolled over. 'I gotta get rid of this lumpy mattress.' She was just settling back into a deep slumber when something wet dripped onto her forehead.

            "Huh?" she groaned, and sleepily brought up her hand to wipe the moisture away. But to her disgust, she discovered that whatever it was on her face was thick and mucous-like in consistency.

            "Gross!" she exclaimed. Now fully awake, she began to rise, but froze in terror at what she saw looming over her. It was a giant spider with fangs dripping and pale, bulbous multiple eyes reflecting her own terrified face. What was more, she was not in any place she recognized but in the midst of a deep, dark forest with dense cobwebs stretched between the trees.

            The spider laughed in a thin, hissing voice that finally snapped the girl out of her stupor. She frantically scrambled backwards away from the creature. An effort made more difficult by the fact that she had been poisoned and her legs had been bound with the spider's strong, sticky thread while she had been sleeping. The creature did not attempt to follow her.

            "What kind of nightmare is this?" she whispered to herself as her back came into contact with a thick, tree trunk and she could flee no further. 

            "A nightmare!" she exclaimed. "It must be a nightmare! These spiders are just like in The Hobbit. I've just been reading too much Tolkein." 

            "Wake up," she ordered herself in a harsh whisper and closed her eyes and took a deep, ragged breath, willing herself awake. After a time, she opened one eye, only to see that her surroundings had not changed, the giant spider regarding her curiously.  

            "Wake up!" she cried aloud and thrust her head into her hands, rocking herself back and forth in a panicked desperation.

            "What have we here?" said a creaky voice from above.

            The young woman looked up just in time to see another spider leap down upon her from the trees. It impaled her left shoulder with one of its thin, hairy legs, the force of the blow knocking the back of her head into the trunk of the tree behind her, sending her into merciful oblivion.

            The first thing she was aware of was a great fiery pain in her shoulder. It was the worst pain she had ever felt in her life, worse even than the time she had broken her arm after falling from her horse while she was first learning to canter.

            Her ears detected unearthly voices in conversation thought she could only make out the odd word. 

            "Good job . . . sister."

            "Lucky . . . been ages."

            ". . . girl-flesh . . ."

            "Feast . . ."

            She slowly became aware that she was being dragged across the damp ground. 'What on earth is going on?' she wondered to herself. Her eyes fluttered open but at first she did not recognize what her eyes saw. She groaned in pain and suddenly the dragging sensation ceased.

            "It wakesss!" she heard a strange voice hiss.

            She felt herself being lifted out from under an odd looking fat, bulbous shape. Then her memory raced back to her. 'The spiders!' she realized, just as she was pulled up level with the spider's grotesque face.

            "Mmm," it said. "You look delicious."

            "Juicy, no doubt!" said another. "And tender."

            "You must be careful, it won't take much hanging until she's done," warned one more.

            The young woman slowly shook off her shock as the spiders continued to discuss how to properly prepare her for eating. They were all quite absorbed in the debate and so did not notice that her right hand slid into her pocket, where she found her Swiss Army knife. 'Thank God for small favours,' she thought to herself wryly as she struggled to open it one handed. She bit down hard on her lip to keep herself from crying out when she fumbled and cut herself on it.

            She took in a deep but ragged breath. 'Eat me, will you?' she thought to herself. 'Not without a fight.' Silently she struck out, sinking her tiny knife deep into the eye of the spider who so foolishly held her so close to its face.

            The spider shrieked an ear shattering squeal of pain and just as the girl raised her knife for another blow, an arrow flew out from the trees and, grazing her arm in the process, neatly severed the leg of the spider that had held aloft. With a strangled cry, the girl crashed to the ground. Pain exploded in her left shoulder, her vision blacked out and then she knew no more.


	2. Angels?

            Darn, she passes out a lot doesn't she? Just a note, Siobhan is pronounced 'sheh von'. In case you're wondering, it's Irish (well, kind of).

            Just a couple revisions, now she doesn't remember falling asleep before waking up in the forest. It will be significant later on.

Chapter 2: Angels? 

           Her shoulder ached with a fury so intense that she was not at first aware of the dull throbbing in the back of her head. The sounds of unearthly shrieking echoed in her head. Then for a while, all was silent.

            She thought she heard the faint whisperings of melodious voices, speaking in a language that was strange yet not entirely unfamiliar. 'Angels?' she asked herself. 'Am I dead? No, I hurt too much to be dead.'

            She rolled onto her right side, whimpered in pain a little. Though she did not realize it, she still had a piece of spider leg protruding through her shoulder.

            "Who are you? What are you doing here?" a lilting voice with a strange accent demanded from somewhere above her.

            "Huh? My name is Siobhan O'Reilly," she answered in a weak voice, without bothering to lift her head to see who it was that spoke to her. "And as for what I'm doing here, your guess is as good as mine."

            "What is that supposed to mean?" another voice sneered.

            "I don't remember how I got here. I don't even remember falling asleep . . .  but suddenly I woke up and was about to be eaten by giant spiders," she explained sleepily, her eyes still closed tightly.

            "Do you truly expect us to believe such a tale?" the first one scoffed.

            "Believe it or not, I don't care. But, it's the truth," she sighed. "Why would I make up such an unlikely story?"

            Again, Siobhan heard whisperings above her. The voices seemed to be having an argument of some kind. She opened her eyes slightly, and though her head was swimming, she saw the figures of four men standing over her. They all seemed to be glowing, but she dismissed the sight as mere hallucination. She had hit her head, after all. Then she noticed that they stood with bows drawn and arrows pointing at her.

             "Do you really think that I am a threat to you like this?" Siobhan giggled softly. She was becoming slightly delirious from the pain. "If so, I am flattered but I'm afraid you overestimate my fortitude."

            She heard a few soft words spoken and suddenly their weapons were lowered.

            "Come, human . . ." one said softly, as he crouched down next to her face.

            'What kind of an epithet is that?' she wondered to herself as she struggled to open her heavy eyes further. Though her vision wavered in and out of focus, she could still see a definite aura of light about the strange man. He seemed to glow with a heavenly light that made her think of angels again.

            "We shall bring you to King Thranduil's Halls. There, it shall be decided what is to be done with you. But first," he said with a soft smile, "I shall do what I can to sooth your wounds."

            "Thank you sir," Siobhan whispered quietly before closing her eyes again. She was getting quite sleepy, and though she knew that it was never a good idea to sleep on a concussion, she could not help herself.

            "Though you will likely be cursing me before I am finished," the man continued, oblivious to the fact that she was no longer listening. "This shall hurt quite a bit." He proceeded to break off the spider leg as close to her shoulder as possible and then grasping the other end of it, swiftly pulled it from her body.

            "Ai! Siobhan's eyes snapped open and she screamed out in pain, tears spilling from her eyes. She then sank back into a quiet semi-consciousness where she was only half aware of what was going on about her, where everything looked and sounded strange and frightening.

            "Do not worry, young one," the strange man whispered in her ear. "The worst is now over. These herbs should slow the bleeding and numb your pain." He took some dried herbs from a small pouch in his jerkin and packed them into her wounds before binding her shoulder with strips of cloth one of his companions had ripped from his tunic. 

            "That shall have to do for now," he sighed, still speaking in the girl's language. "We should be going, the road ahead is long." He gingerly picked up the young woman, cradling her within his arms then set off to the north, his companions following silently behind him.


	3. Elves, huh?

            Is it better to have thoughts in 'single brackets'? or in _italics? I can't decide for myself. Also, I've been doing my chapters in bite sized chunks of about 600 – 1000 words because that's what's easiest for me and it allows me to update more often but I think it might be annoying to read like this, in which case, I'll change it. What do you think?_

            Just a little revision; I gave the good elf doctor a name. It just seemed rude and completely un-elflike for him to not introduce himself.

Chapter 3: Elves, huh?

            In her dreams, Siobhan heard the soft chanting of melodious voices that filled her heart with gladness and she was comforted. Her head felt filled with a warm, liquid light that gently brought her out of the darkness of her slumber.

            She awoke, taking a moment to asses her surroundings before she opened her eyes, Siobhan noticed the cool feel of a silk nightgown against her body, the supple softness of the down duvet that covered her and the pungent smell of herbs in the air. Her heavy eyelids fluttered open to see that she was in a soft canopied bed with the curtains open on the left side. She turned her head to the side to see a kind looking man sitting beside her, wearing strange robes. He was fair haired, fair skinned and quite beautiful. Though he seemed to be quite young, he had an air of age and wisdom about him that seemed to conflict with his outward appearance. He also had a faint glow surrounded him. 'Must be the concussion,' Siobhan thought to herself.

            "Welcome back miliady," the man smiled down at her in a soft, musical voice. "My name is Nenril, I have been caring for you since you arrived here last night." 

            'He articulates his words carefully,' Siobhan mused. 'This is obviously not his native tongue.' Her eyes assessed the man sitting next to her. She noted his striking blue eyes, his perfect skin, the long pale hair that was tucked behind his ears. She started as she noticed that his ears came to pointed tips. "You're an elf, aren't you!?" she blurted out, then blushed, quite embarrassed that first words to the stranger were such utter nonsense.

            "Yes, I am," the man, no, elf smiled at her again. 

            'Omigod, he just said that he's an elf,' Siobhan's thought to herself.

            He looked quite amused. "We are all elves here in The Mirkwood Forest."

            "Elves, huh? Of Mirkwood?" she repeated the oddly familiar name to herself. Recalling the spiders in the forest, she suddenly remembered. "Mirkwood . . . as in Middle Earth?" Siobhan asked, in a slight state of shock at her realization that she was in Tolkein's imaginary world. 

            "Yes, of course . . ."

            "This is real, isn't it?" Siobhan interrupted in a small, terrified voice. "I'm not going to wake up and find that this was all just a horrible nightmare." She was beginning to panic.

            "I am afraid not, my lady." The kindly elf reached out a hand to give hers a reassuring, if awkward, pat. "Though I must say, you are healing quite nicely, for a human. You should bee up and about in a day or two and I expect you to make a full recovery within a few months." 

            As he droned on about how she was lucky to have been rescued in time, Siobhan was thinking furiously. 'Tolkein didn't make it up,' she wondered. 'It really exists. It's no wonder it all seemed so real, no wonder the story was all so complex and historical and . . .'

            "Milady?" the elf repeated for the third time. His voice was starting to worry. "Are you in much pain?" He leaned over her and looked into her eyes.

            "Yes," she answered truthfully, nodding her head and lowering her eyes. She could feel the pain in her shoulder grow and diminish in time with her heartbeat, though she hadn't wanted to say anything.

            "Well then, I would like you to drink some of this herbal tea I have prepared for you. It should take the worst of the pain away."

            He turned to his side where a small table was set up and poured a small cup of the steaming hot liquid. He carefully handed it to Siobhan and watched her as she sipped the drink carefully.

            When she was finished, he stood and gathered up his materials. "You should rest now, milady," he said to her in a stern voice that gave Siobhan no doubt that those were a doctor's orders, not to be trifled with. "I shall return later in the day to check up on you and to change your bandages. Do try to get some sleep. You've had quite and ordeal."

            "Mmm," she nodded in the affirmative. Satisfied at her response, he smiled at her one final time and then closed the curtains about her bed and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him. 

            Now left to herself, Siobhan sighed audibly. "What is this madness? Middle Earth?" she muttered to herself. "How in the seven circles of hell did I get here?"

            She thought hard, trying to remember the events just before she woke up in the forest and found, to her dismay, that her recollection of that time period was hazy and distorted. 'When was the last day I remember?' she thought to herself. 'I don't know' was the best answer she could come up with.

            "Okay then, so I'm in Middle Earth," she returned to a topic that wouldn't distress her so much. "I wonder when? I mean, Tolkein couldn't have written about stuff that hasn't happened yet, right? So this must be after the War of the Ring. But if so, why is the Mirkwood Forest still murky? It should have returned to normal once Sauron was defeated, and the elves should have all left for the West. But what if . . ."

            Her thoughts were slowing down as the herbs began to take effect. Thinking was beginning to feel like wading through muck and, try as she might, she could not seem to keep her eyes open. "I suppose I'll just have to ask someone tomorrow . . ." Siobhan mused and then closed her eyes to rest. Once again, she had sweet, happy dreams though she could not remember them when she woke.

            Unbeknownst to Siobhan, she was not alone in her room. There were keen elvish ears listening to her sleepy monologue, and they were quite confused with what they heard.


	4. Questions

            Well, this chapter is a little bigger than my previous ones. Sorry for the wait.

            Thanks to the mysterious 'm' for your encouragement. Though I am writing this tale for my own satisfaction, it is nice to know that someone else is enjoying it too . . . even if it is only one person. I used to shake my head at reading authors who threatened and pleaded readers to review. But now I too understand the power of the review. I'm constantly checking to see if anyone has left me a little something. 

            Just a note, the S.C.A (Society for Creative Anachronism) is an international group that recreates certain aspects of the Middle Ages. If you want to learn more, check out www.sca.org

Chapter 4: Questions

            The next time Siobhan awoke, she was feeling much better and her shoulder was not paining her as much as before. She sat up carefully and to her satisfaction, found that she was not dizzied. Looking down at herself, she noticed that she was wearing a beautiful silk nightgown with a wide neck to make her shoulder more accessible. That meant that someone undressed her, a thought she was not terribly comfortable with. 'I don't think the elves would do anything so immoral . . . Besides,' she reasoned as she wiggled her hips a little, 'everything down there feels fine.'

            Satisfied that she had not been molested as she slept, Siobhan swung her legs out over the side of the bed and was just tensing her muscles to rise when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. There was a man in her room! She quickly scooted back into the privacy that the canopied bed offered her where the guard could not see her and tucked herself back under the covers. Just because she hadn't been 'played with' yet did not mean it could not happen.

            'No, not a man,' she reminded herself, 'an elf. And an armed guard by the looks of it. Hmph, so much for famous elven hospitality. Though, it could be worse, I suppose." Siobhan thought to herself. 'They might have had me thrown in the dungeons like in The Hobbit. Except that even if I wanted to, I won't be able to buy my freedom with a share of a legendary dragon hoard.' She was still thinking furiously about her situation and so did not notice the opening of her door or the entrance of the elf until he spoke.

            "Excuse me my lady, but I would have words with you now."

            Siobhan gasped a little, in surprise at the sound of the soft voice and whipped her head about to face the elf that stood to the side of her bed.

            She squinted at him and gave him a thorough once over from the boots on up. He was as tall and straight as she had imagined the elves to be and he looked narrower in the body than most men. His clothing was all in natural shades of green and brown, ornately decorated. His long pale hair was kept off his face by pretty little braids that did not make him look too feminine. Though his face was inscrutable, his clear blue eyes danced with amusement. Her memories were still a bit of a blur but he seemed to be one of the elves who had rescued her, the one who had spoken to her so kindly. 

            "I apologize for startling you milady. Elves step lightly and make no sound when they walk." He moved forward a few steps so that he directly was at the side of her bed, looking over her. It seemed to Siobhan unnatural for one to be able to move with such utter grace and serenity. He seemed to float more than walk.

            "My name is Legolas Greenleaf," his musical voice rang out clearly, though he barely raised his voice above a whisper. 

            'Legolas,' she thought to herself in awe. 'I always did daydream of meeting him somehow and being the one to ensnare his heart, succeeding where all others had failed.' But now that he was standing before her with his exquisitely beautiful but expressionless face, Siobhan was more intimidated than anything else.

            "And you, Lady Siobhan O'Reilly," he carefully enunciated the foreign name. "You are quite the mystery. Never before have we found a human woman in this forest. And the odd time any others do brave the woods, they never travel alone. Were your companions lost? And what were you doing in The Mirkwood to begin with? It is no place for pleasure strolls as you no doubt discovered."

            Siobhan opened her mouth to answer then closed it again without uttering a single sound. 'What am I supposed to say?' Siobhan asked herself. 'He's asking me these questions again because he didn't believe my story the first time I told it. If he didn't believe it then, he certainly won't believe it now, though I can hardly blame him for it. It does sound daft. However, it could be that he simply wishes to confirm my tale now that I am lucid. I don't think I could make up anything that he'd believe,' she pondered. 'And I certainly don't want to be caught in a lie. If the guard in my room is any sign, I'm already not welcome here, or trusted for that matter. No, the truth will simply have to do.'

            Several moments had passed as he waited for her answer and the prince showed no sign of impatience. 'Must be an elvish virtue,' Siobhan reflected wryly as she prepared herself to begin what she was sure would turn out to be a long interrogation.

            "It is as I said before," she stated plainly, her voice trembling slightly. "Though, I expect you shall not believe me." Siobhan tried her hardest to speak in what she figured was the proper style for Middle Earth, attempting to emulate what she remembered of the formal speech of the heralds and royalty in the courts at the S.C.A. events she frequented. 

            'I don't want to seem more out of place than I already am,' she decided.

            "Well, it is quite plain that you do not hail from anywhere we have ever heard of. I have closely examined the clothing you were wearing when we found you and its style and fabric do not resemble anything I have ever seen in all my considerable travels."

            "Strange too is your manner of speech, which you are going to such pains to conceal," he paused as she blushed a dark pink.

            'Damn,' she silently cursed at herself. 'It's just as well that I decided to tell them the truth. They'd have had me figured out before I closed my mouth.'

            "I also find it most bizarre that you dress and behave much as a man would." His eyes lit up with laughter as she frowned in response to his accusations. 

            'I get enough of being told to be more lady-like back home!' she sighed to herself. 'But, what else did I expect in Middle Earth?'

            "You wear breeches," Legolas continued. "And, your hair is much shorter than any respectable woman would dare."

            "Have you finished insulting me yet?" Siobhan huffed, she'd already had quite enough of being told how weird she was before even stepping foot in Middle Earth. And though she had long since come to terms with being 'eccentric' as she liked to think about it, she did not enjoy having the fact shoved up her throat by a stranger, Prince Legolas Greenleaf or not!

            His expression softened for a fraction of a second before it returned to its usual unreadable state. "I meant you no offence, Lady Siobhan," he soothed. "I was simply attempting to explain to you that because of the evidence my eyes see before me, though your claim of amnesia is most suspicious, I do believe you."

            That was a surprise. Siobhan had resigned herself to being labelled insane at best. She didn't even want to think about the worst case scenario.

            "And," he hesitated, "I must admit, I found your actions to be quite brave. Most maidens I know, elf or human, would have fainted dead away at the sight of one of the Mirkwood spiders. You fought quite valiantly though you were practically unarmed."

            Siobhan lowered her face in attempt to hide the soft blush that spread across her cheeks. When she looked back up, Legolas had extended his hand to her, and in it was her pocket knife. She reached up and took it gingerly, her fingertips briefly brushing the cool skin of the elf's palm. Her tiny Swiss Army knife had been cleaned and oiled with care. She quietly thanked him and set the knife aside on her pillow.

            "So, you have no knowledge of how you came to be in the forest?" he asked again, one final chance to change her story.

            "None at all," Siobhan shook her head solemnly.

            "Where then do you come from?" he changed the subject. "It must be very far from here."

            "Further than you could imagine," Siobhan sighed slightly. "You would not have heard of my home even if I told it to you."

            "Tell me anyway," Legolas insisted.

            "Victoria," she whispered softly, knowing the elf would hear. "It is a fairly large city in British Columbia, which is a province in a larger country called Canada."

            "Tell me, what is it like there?" he asked.

            "It is a beautiful city on the ocean, full of flower gardens," Siobhan smiled in remembrance, feeling slightly homesick. "Not far away, there is a great forest of tall, ancient trees with no giant spiders to eat you! I love to go there to walk the paths under the trees, listen to the birds sing and enjoy the clean air. I do think you elves would like it there."

            "I miss it a lot," she confided. "I wonder if I'll ever see it again."

            "Do not worry yourself Lady Siobhan. I shall ensure your safe return to your home." Legolas knelt and looked solemnly in her eyes as he made the promise.

            "I'm afraid that may be a promise that even the Prince of Mirkwood will not be able to keep," Siobhan sighed, with just a hint of despair in her voice.

            She saw the elf stiffen slightly when she addressed him as prince. 'Uh oh,' she thought to herself. 'He didn't say anything about being Thranduil's son, did he? How am I going to explain this one?'

            But, to her surprise, the prince did not even ask. He simply rose to his feet and bowed gracefully to her. 

            "I am afraid that I must now take my leave of you, milady." His face showed none of his alarm. "I shall send Nenril with a meal and new bandages. Good evening, Lady Siobhan.

            With that, he turned and walked out the door.

'Maybe he didn't notice,' Siobhan hoped to herself as she waited for her next visitor.


End file.
